Shatter
by edmundblack
Summary: /If I'd spent another day there, I would've died/Sirius is running, fast, faster than ever but his younger self is bleeding through.


**For the New Year's Resolution Competition – Emotional Abuse/Physical Abuse ($100), For the Greek Mythology Challenge – Atlas (Write about Sirius Black), For the Hunger Games Trilogy Challenge – Rue (Write about a character's death that saddened you) **

**Trigger Warnings: Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Running Away, Self-Harm, Depression**

I stand on the street, clutching my trunk tightly as the rain pours down. _Drip, drip, drip. _It runs down the edges of my clothes, soaking my arms until all my hair seems to be sticking to some part of my body, mixing with the blood flowing from the gash on my forehead.

"_Fine then, you little blood traitor! Run, you stupid muggle-lover! You're just as bad as the rest of them, you bring us shame!" My father swings the bottle at me and the glass shatters against my head, cutting open my forehead and hitting my skin like little bullets, not that Father would know what they are. It's a steady stream, dripping into my mouth and I spit out the blood and glass back to my father, anger boiling in my veins and tears piercing my eyes. _

My legs wobble and give way beneath me and my butt lands on the sidewalk, my feet in the gutter, with the rainwater licking at my trainers. _Shit. _I hiccough into my legs and hold my head up with my hands, elbows on knees, trying to brace myself, trying desperately to make sense of what just happened to me. _How? _

_I remember being seven, standing in front of my father, chin stuck out defiantly._

"_You're lying," I said, plain and clear for all to hear, "I wasn't mean to that girl. I didn't call her mudblood."  
>"And why ever not, Sirius?" My father hissed, eyes glowing like heated coals of a fire, "You should've! You saw that filth, purchasing her Hogwarts books, putting stains on the books that could have one day been yours! How <em>dare_ you not insult her? She was being horrid to you!"_

"_She was just buying her books!" I protested, and he grabbed me by the shirt-front, shaking me violently. My head lolled around and my neck screamed in pain._

"_That'll teach you." _

James. I want James here, he always told me, if I ever needed a place to stay…I could go to him. My best friend, and I've tasted his mother's cooking, the gingerbread and raspberry tarts and Christmas cake. I smile a little, despite the tears streaming down my face. He may as well be my brother, good old Prongs. I can't imagine life without him. I slip my wallet out of my pocket and lean over it, careful not to get it wet. A picture of the four of us, laughing at the camera, is in one of the little slots. James has his arm draped around my shoulders, pretending to kiss me, and I'm laughing. Remus is grinning at the two of us, rolling his eyes, and Peter is next to him, clapping. I spot a familiar redheaded Evans and her friend Marlene in the background, who don't seem very impressed with us. A tear falls onto the picture and I shut my eyes, rocking back and forth numbly.

"_I'm worried about him," I heard my mother say through the door, sobs catching on her voice, "He's off to Hogwarts next year."_

"_It'll be alright, Walburga," Father says in an unusually soft tone, "We've raised him well."_

"_There are those filthy mudboods everywhere! He's not a normal kid, Orion, already he has sympathies...You know what they say about blood-traitors losing their magic."_

Now I know that they knew I was listening, that it was all a load of bullshit to try and scare me. And I remember running, running as fast as I could to my room and locking myself in there and wondering…_Am I really better than them? _

James' house is just a couple of blocks away. I could make it, I could still make it, if it weren't for fucking Regulus.

"_I want to join them, Sirius." My brother was only fourteen, with the family's good looks and black locks. He held his wand tightly in his hand, staring at me, his older brother. "Mother and Father say they have the right idea, the Death Eaters. And Cissy's married to Lucius, you were there, it was only at Christmas. He's one of them."_

_And as I looked at him I felt as if I was breaking, because I assumed Regulus was going to grow up like them, but to go so far as to join the Death Eaters…Not my little brother, who I played games with when I was younger and who, despite everything, ran up to me on Christmas Day, at Hogwarts, and shoved a box of Honeydukes' chocolate into my hands before disappearing. "Reg-"_

"_I just wanted to tell you. _Okay?"

It's as if he is here now, saying it again, with the fear reflecting in his eyes and a quivering lip. Poor Regulus – I want to be there for him, but then I would have to be with our parents, and he's the perfect son anyway – he won't bother them, he never has, they'll think he is a hero.

_And I'm five again, playing my games with Regulus, back before we argued over our beliefs and even though we disagreed, we were only little boys. Kreacher was with us too, and we were playing a game of Quidditch, and we'd tried to make up fake names for us._

"_I'll be a Seeker, and my name will be…it'll be…" The four-year-old struggled for words and I laughed at my brother._

"_A Malfoy? You could be Lucius, we all know how much you like him!" I hooted with glee. Regulus pouted at me._

"_It's Cissy who likes him, Sirius, not me! No, no, I'll be…Gaunt. Edmund Gaunt. Because they were the founders of our house, right?" Regulus asked. I shook my head. Mother made us learn the tree and history off by heart even at that young an age, and I hit him for forgetting. The perfect son had slipped, and I was happy, because if Kreacher told Mother I'd be praised for remembering and Regulus would be in trouble for once._

"_No, you bludger. Edmund's right, but it was his wife's mother that was the Gaunt. I think his wife's name was…Cassiopeia? Yeah, that's right, there's a couple of them."_

"_Oh well. Who are you?" He asked me eagerly, and I chewed my lip. I knew who I wanted to be, but if I could be him…._

"_I'll be Harry." I said, and Regulus frowned.  
>"Harry? Harry for who?"<br>"No," I snapped, "Not Harry for anyone. I'll be Harry O'Leg." Thinking back on it, it was a stupid name, but I was proud of myself, because even then I wanted to annoy them._

"_O'Leg? Who are they?" Regulus' eyebrows knitted together – he prided himself on being able to name all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight of Britain and the Sacred Fifteen of France. This was a name he hadn't heard before, and I'd known he wouldn't._

"_It's a muggle one," I grinned as his eyes widened in horror, "I'm going to be a muggle-born." But I shouldn't have said that, because Regulus screamed and slapped me across the face, and even though he was younger than me it still hurt, and he raced down the steps, shouting for our parents. I was frozen, scared and just realizing what they'd do. Tears formed into my eyes and I sunk onto my knees, covering my head with my arms._

"_Bad Master Sirius," Kreacher crooned with delight, "Naughty, naughty, Mistress Walburga will have to punish you now…."_

"_Shut up," I screamed at him, "You stupid house-elf!" _

_My mother appeared at the top of the stairs, a slick of red across her lips and her hair curled elegantly, eyes brimming with rage. "What'd you say to your brother, you stupid good-for-nothing!" My heart nearly fell out of my chest as she loomed over me, casting me into a shadow like night. "You little troublemaker, I sent word to your father, he'll be home soon."_

Crack.

_My father was there, and he clearly knew what was going on, letting out strings of swearwords before grabbing me by the arm, forcing me to look him in the eye. With one hand he slapped me, repeatedly, until I was sobbing and there was a red welt on each of my cheekbones. Regulus whimpered, I could hear him, scared that would happen to him. My father pushed his wand against my throat. _

"_I can do the Unforgiveables perfectly well, boy," He growled, "Now, what did you say to Regulus?"_

I can't breathe – my lungs are tight and I feel the vomit burning my throat, and I retch all into the gutter, at my feet, my hands trembling. A sheet of sweat breaks over my face and I try to take deep breaths, getting slowly to my feet. I can't stay here, I need to get to James' house. My eyes scream as the tears stain my shirt, and curls against my hair. I get my legs to stop shaking – finally – and begin the walk down the street, ignoring the curious glances I get because of the blood dripping down my face.

_I'm twelve and I stand over the sink, wondering how I've only been home two weeks and already can't stand it without James and Remus and Peter. My hands shook as they do now, and there was a throbbing in my chest for the boys who had become my best friends, the best parts of my life. Two weeks and I already had fresh scars and screaming ringing in my ears. I hiccoughed into the sink, shakily breathing and crying. I tried to be quiet, because if any of them found me… Self-harm in any form was considered repulsive by the wizarding community. It still is. _

_I'd learnt this spell from my cousin Bellatrix, when she lured muggles to her house a previous summer and made us all take turns at hurting the poor man, and I had casted it several times. Andromeda was the only one who didn't do it, and she paid the price with the bruises on her arms and legs from her sister. Andromeda was also the only one who found me later and stroked my hair while I cried because I was terrible, I'd been so terrible just because I was so scared of Bellatrix, and my parents, and everyone really and that they'd hurt me or kill me. _

_And slowly I moved my wand, letting the cuts burn my skin. No blood, not yet, just little strips of pink…That muggle man had bled, and he'd screamed until Bellatrix killed him and made me and Andy bury him under the house. No one could ever know. _

_I cut, over and over and over until my wand arm hurt and the blood was flowing steadily from my wrist into the sink. Again and again and again until I was too afraid I'd scream, and I collapsed against the bathtub, sobbing silently and clutching my wrists, so angry at myself…I'd let that muggle die, how could I, how could I? _

My legs burn and I race up the streets, trying not to imagine Bellatrix's sneering and Regulus sitting in his room, trying not to miss me and my parents' anger. I just hope they don't hurt Regulus, not my brother, please don't let Father take his anger out on him…_Please. _I hold my wrist up to my cold, bloodied cheek and I can still feel a light scar running across it. But that's underneath the others, the layers of the years and the tears.

If I spent another day there, I would've died.


End file.
